Fifty five seconds
by hazeleyes571
Summary: Then she said, "Pin me down."


Disclaimer: Not mine, direct quotes used without permission but credit where it's due to them. Don't sue me.  
  
Author: Hazeleyes57  
  
Title: 55 seconds  
  
Spoiler: Season four episode 'Invisible evidence'.  
  
Summary: Then she said, "Pin me down."  
  
Rating: PG.   
  
Fifty-five seconds  
  
Grissom walked along the corridor absently checking the side rooms periodically as he went. He easily resisted the urge to look at his watch; he didn't need to know the time to understand the pressure that they were all under. As he had already said to Warrick -   
  
Grissom halted almost mid stride and turned in to one of the side rooms.  
  
Sara stood looking at a bloodstained sheet pinned to a board. Her arms were folded and her hands were gloved. She was aware that Grissom had entered the room but barely acknowledged him.  
  
Her head leaned very slightly to the left as she studied the sheet in front of her, trying to visualise the scene of the crime.  
  
Grissom automatically noted that Sara was wearing a dark sleeveless T-shirt and her usual dark pants.  
  
He looked at first at Sara then transferred his gaze to the sheet.  
  
The fingers of his left hand flexed as he wondered what she was thinking.  
  
Grissom moved to stand beside her and he looked at the sheet.  
  
She was so close that he could smell her. The unconscious urge to reach out and touch her was so strong that he put his hands in his pockets to prevent them from doing so.  
  
"Checking my work?"  
  
There is no malice or censure in his enquiry, just curiosity.  
  
"Naw, I'm just looking around."  
  
Sara continued to look at the sheet.  
  
Grissom looked from the sheet to Sara, leaning forward slightly to see her face.  
  
"What're you thinking?"  
  
Sara stepped forward as she spoke, raising her gloved hands flat to the bloody sheet without touching the evidence.  
  
"Well, her body left behind this void..."  
  
Sara turned back to face Grissom.  
  
"...her attacker was on top, he held her down by her wrists."  
  
Grissom stepped toward to Sara. He could plainly visualise the scene Sara was describing. He stared at her as he continued her line of thought.  
  
"Which would explain the transfer of wax from him to her."  
  
Sara smiles with satisfaction, he has picked up her line of reason.  
  
"Yes."  
  
She nods, and satisfaction colours her tone of voice. She raises her wrists to her head height.  
  
Sara looks directly into Grissom's eyes.  
  
"Pin me down."  
  
The room was suddenly charged with tension. Grissom's eyes widened slightly but he tried to make it look like he had just realised where she was going with this.  
  
He stepped forward to stand directly in front of Sara, mere inches apart. He involuntarily leaned forward slightly, moving into her personal space, inhaling her scent.  
  
Sara raised her arms and she looked to the right to check that she was not touching the sheet, but also to regain some semblance of control over her wayward emotions.   
  
She was viscerally aware of Grissom's proximity.  
  
She tried to look unconcerned when his splayed fingers griped her wrists just below the edge of her gloves, as if he really were trying to hold her down. She pretended that there was no jolt of heat shooting through both of her arms.  
  
Grissom's gaze was intent on her. His left forefinger slipped in to Sara's palm.  
  
"She would have struggled."  
  
They struggled a little for realism, and Grissom's gaze never left Sara's face. He struggled to keep his mind on the appalling case instead of the proximity of Sara's body to his own.  
  
Sara turned to look at her right wrist, unable or unwilling to meet Grissom's penetrating blue eyes for a moment. She shored up her defences, then looked back to him.  
  
"Then she give up."  
  
Sara allowed her arms to relax slightly in Grissom's grasp. He remained holding her, his head lifting slightly, his stare frowning and intense.  
  
"Then - afterwards - when he got up, he put his hands on the sheet for leverage."   
  
Grissom's hands finally released Sara's wrists and slid slowly down, grazing her upper arm on the way, as he positioned his hands either side of Sara's waist, again without touching the evidence.   
  
Grissom watched his hands make the journey to the spot beside Sara's waist. He would be ashamed later to admit to himself that he had lost all thought of the victim at this point. He made himself think about the case, and not Sara.   
  
"Like this - which explains how the wax got from him to the sheets."  
  
He met Sara's eyes and felt the jolt clear down to his feet when she uttered the word  
  
"Yes!"  
  
with such satisfaction.  
  
Sara looked determinedly into his eyes.   
  
Grissom felt the yawning chasm open in front of him again.  
  
He still didn't know what to do about 'this'.  
  
.  
  
.  
  
.  
  
.  
  
End.  
  
March 04. 


End file.
